The Story Tellers
by Jedi Sapphire
Summary: Fluff. One-shot. Arwen is charged with giving Elfling Legolas his history lesson. Her brothers intervene with a little "history" of their own devising.


**Disclaimer: **Nothing's mine. But you knew that. *g*

**Summary:** Fluff. Arwen is charged with giving Elfling Legolas his history lesson. Her brothers intervene with a little "history" of their own devising.

Many thanks to my wonderful beta, Calenlass, for advice, suggestions and patience with questions.

**Rating:** G

* * *

**The Story-Tellers**

There were two Elves sitting on the grass. A glance was enough to determine that they were twins. No passerby spared them a glance, though, because every passerby was too busy walking rapidly in the opposite direction. Elladan and Elrohir exchanged a grin, smugly pleased at the proportions their reputation had taken.

"She's coming," Elladan said suddenly, nodding at a slender figure that was just emerging from the Last Homely House.

"And she's got him," Elrohir added, noting the other, much tinier figure alongside the first.

The object of their dialogue was an _elleth_whose beauty was, despite her relative youth, as legendary as the twins' iniquities. She led by the hand an Elfling whose golden hair shone brightly in the afternoon sun. As soon as the child discerned their destination, he pulled his hand free of her grip, ignored her warning cry of, "Legolas!" and ran to the grassy knoll on which the _ellyn_ sat. Elladan leapt to his feet and swept the Elfling up in his arms when he reached them.

Legolas shrieked with laughter as he was whirled in a giddy circle before being snatched from Elladan's hands by Elrohir.

"Remember, I am _much_ more interesting than Elladan," the younger twin said solemnly. "So next time, dodge him and come to _me_ first."

Elladan shook his head and gave his twin a playful swat.

"Don't listen to him, Elfling. He's just jealous because he knows you like me better."

"_Honestly_, you two!" Arwen Undómiel muttered, reaching her brothers just as Elladan bore Elrohir to the ground. She bent and scooped Legolas out from between them, dodging their flailing fists with expertise born of long practice. "_Ada_ will have your ears if you damage the Elfling."

"We wouldn't have hurt him," Elrohir protested, pushing Elladan off him and contriving to look deeply injured by the very suggestion.

Arwen rolled her eyes and dropped gracefully to the grass, releasing her hold on Legolas so that he could sprawl on his stomach beside her.

"How did you get him out, anyway?" Elladan asked.

"It was easy," Arwen said with an innocent smile that did not deceive her companions in the least. "Poor Erestor was ready to give up in despair... Apparently he has spent the entire morning trying to take a restless little Elf through the finer points of the politics of Gondolin."

Elrohir laughed.

"Oh, poor Legolas," he murmured, ruffling the golden hair. "That must have been terrible."

"Poor Legolas?" Elladan echoed wryly. "I imagine that everyone else is saying, 'Oh, poor Erestor.'"

"Serves him right," Elrohir muttered. "Subjecting a child to political science on a sunny summer's day like this... Legolas, the next time he tries to do that to you, remember that he is slower on his left. If you can dodge him on that side and then _run_ to me or to Elladan, we'll save you."

"You really should not encourage him," Arwen said idly. "He _is_ King Thranduil's heir."

"_We _shouldn't encourage him?" Elrohir challenged. "And who was it who snuck him out of the library just now, probably promising Erestor that she would tell Legolas all about Turgon's court in the shade of a nice beech tree?"

Arwen flushed becomingly and mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Of course," Elrohir said, smirking in an infuriating manner. "Legolas, do you want to go and look at that birch grove we planted on your last visit? The trees are all tall and strong now –"

"_No_," Arwen said firmly. "_Nana_ still hasn't forgotten what happened the _last_ time you took him into the forest. I promised her I wouldn't let you do it again."

"That was an accident!"

Arwen crossed her arms, her expression implacable. Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other and gave vent to identical, frustrated groans.

"What should we do, then?" Elladan demanded. "We have an Elfling to entertain."

"Tell him about Turgon's court," Arwen suggested with a wicked grin. "Then _I_ will not have to explain to Erestor why I could not fulfill my charge."

Elrohir looked appalled, but Elladan, with a sudden smile, said, "Why don't you do that yourself, Arwen? It would probably be best that way… After all, Erestor always says youwere a better student than either of us."

Elrohir turned astonished eyes on his brother, but something in the older twin's gaze made him nod acquiescence.

"He's right, Arwen. You are by far the best Elf to give Legolas his history lesson – more interesting than Erestor and more knowledgeable than either of us."

Arwen eyed them suspiciously.

"What are you planning?"

"Nothing, _muinthel_," Elladan said in a tone that was clearly meant to be reassuring. I think you're quite right. Learning about Gondolin is a far more productive way for Legolas to spend the afternoon than mooning over birch trees. Besides, we can always go to the grove later."

"All right…" Arwen said slowly. "Legolas, do you want to hear about Glorfindel's city?" The Elfling looked at her with apprehension, but nodded when she added, "It won't be like Erestor's lessons."

Elrohir and Elladan, exchanging grins, sat up properly.

"Gondolin was a hidden city with many brave warriors – and many archers," she added with a small smile; already it was clear to everyone what Legolas' weapon of choice was going to be. "The best of them were members of the House of the Swallow."

"Why?"

It was the first word Legolas had spoken, and for a moment Arwen was nonplussed. After a pause for thought, she said, "Because the archers wanted their arrows to fly fast and true like swallows."

"But _Ada_ says falcons are faster."

"They are, but the archers of Gondolin wanted to name themselves for the swallow."

"Why?"

"Because… Er… Because the falcon is a bird of prey. The archers did not want to use their skills to attack anybody, only to defend themselves and their city." Fortunately Legolas accepted that. Arwen decided to avoid mentioning the House to which the rest of the archers belonged, but her brothers did not intend to let her get off easily.

"Tell him about Egalmoth's House," Elrohir prompted, earning himself a hard glare.

"The rest of the archers, Legolas, belonged to the House of the Heavenly Arch. It was called that because… because… when they stood on a mountain and shot into the air, it seemed to those standing on the ground that their arrows formed an arch from the sky to the earth as they fell."

"Why did they stand on a mountain and shoot into the air?"

"They did not do it often," Arwen said, feeling herself redden under her brothers' amused gazes. "But when they _did_ do it, the sight was so magnificent that everyone spoke about it for days."

"Why doesn't anybody do it now?"

"Poor Erestor, indeed," Elrohir murmured. Then, with a pointed glance in his sister's direction, "Would you like me to take over, Arwen?"

Arwen knew that they would never let her hear the end of it if she surrendered, but she also knew that if anything could stay a step ahead of an Elfling's curiosity, it was Elrohir's inventiveness. She nodded.

"The archers of Gondolin," Elrohir said solemnly, drawing Legolas onto his knee, "were very disciplined, Legolas. They always did as they were told, and they _never_ snuck away behind their friends' backs to try to climb oak trees that were too tall for Elflings."

Legolas squirmed uncomfortably; Elrohir sounded remarkably like his _Ada_ sometimes.

"There was one young Elfling who was especially good and obedient. He was called…"

Here Elrohir hesitated; Elladan quickly supplied, "Itimo," comfortably aware that Legolas did not yet know enough Quenya to translate the name.

Arwen's eyes widened, but before she could protest, Elrohir had continued with his narrative.

"Itimo was so obedient and so good that Glorfindel – you know Glorfindel lived in Gondolin at the time, Legolas – offered to help him practice his archery every day."

"Why?"

"Because Glorfindel likes training young warriors. You know how much he enjoys helping you with _your_ bow."

Legolas nodded.

"Itimo and Glorfindel went to the archery ranges, and because Itimo was attentive and obedient he made swift progress. Glorfindel was so impressed that he promised to train him until he became a master-archer."

"Although he wasn't _nearly_ as skilled an archer as an Elfling _I_ know," Elladan said, leaning over to tickle Legolas' ribs.

Arwen was frowning, certain Elrohir did not intend to continue in this uncharacteristic vein much longer, but she decided to say nothing. As long as it was only Elrohir who told the story, any undesirable consequences of its telling could not be blamed on her.

"Itimo did not play with Elflings who were not as good and obedient as he was himself," Elrohir went on. "And so, it must be confessed, he did not play with many Elflings." He paused, trying to think of something that would amuse Legolas, and finally said, "One day, as he was returning from the archery fields with Glorfindel – he never went anywhere alone, for he had been told not to – the door to one of the smithies was open, and he saw an Elf working on a beautiful sword."

"He wanted to be an archer, of course," Elladan put in. "But the sword was so beautiful that he could not help wondering who would wield it. That night he asked his _Ada_ about it, and his _Ada_ told him that the sword was being made for King Turgon."

"He was told he must not try to get a closer look, because the smithy was a dangerous place for an Elfling."

Arwen was now _sure_ she knew where the story was heading. She started to object, but Elladan waved her to silence. The _elleth _gave up and subsided.

"The next day Itimo told Glorfindel what his _Ada_ had said," Elladan continued, as Elrohir began to bounce Legolas on his knee to keep him interested. "Glorfindel knew all about the sword, and he told Itimo more about it, about how it had been specially commissioned because the smith making it was the most skilled in Gondolin."

"He agreed with Itimo's _Ada_ that the smithy was no place for an Elfling, and told him that he must not go there until he had grown tall enough to wield the great longbow of the archers."

"For the next few days, Itimo and Glorfindel passed the smithy every time they went to the archery ranges, and every time Itimo saw the Elf working on the sword, giving it shape, making it look more and more magnificent."

"Itimo longed to go and take a closer look, but he remembered what he had been told by Glorfindel and his _Ada_. He did not wish to disappoint either of them by being disobedient, and so he suppressed his longing and continued to work hard at his archery. But one day he heard his _Ada_ telling his _Nana_ that the finishing touches were about to be put on the beautiful sword the next day."

"Legolas," Arwen cut in, "When you are asked about this later, _please_ be sure to mention that I _tried_ to stop these two orcs from telling you this story."

"Don't listen to her, Legolas," Elrohir said airily, bending to touch his nose to the Elfling's. "She does not even know why archers no longer stand on mountaintops and shoot into the air."

"Do _you_ know, _muindor n__î__n_?" Arwen asked sweetly.

"Legolas is not interested in that just now," Elrohir responded hastily. "He is listening to the story. Go on, Elladan."

"That night Itimo lay awake. More than anything he wanted to see the sword one last time before it was finished and presented to the King. And surely, he thought, there could be no _harm_ in it if he went there by night when the fires had been banked and there was nobody working? Surely it was not dangerous if he just went and _looked_?"

"He agonized for hours, and it was close to midnight when he finally slipped out of his bed and went to the window."

"And then he realized what a terrible mistake he was making," Arwen interjected firmly. "And he went straight back to bed and slept until morning like the obedient Elfling he was."

"Don't be ridiculous, Arwen," Elrohir said. "That's not the way the story ends. Ignore that, Legolas. Itimo slipped out of his bedroom window and climbed to the ground – it was not far. He did _not_ try to jump from a thirty-foot-high balcony."

"He ran straight to the smithy – he knew the way very well – so silently that not even the guards noticed him. Once he reached it, he saw that, despite the lateness of the hour, the door was open and the fires were blazing brightly. By its light he could see an Elf standing next to the furnace."

"He was so surprised that he forgot to be careful and his footsteps made enough noise to be heard by the smith."

"The smith came out, and Itimo saw that it was Enerdhil, the master-craftsman of Gondolin. He had wanted to work on the sword overnight so that he could be certain that it would be finished in time to give the King the next day. He was astonished to see someone outside his smithy, but when he heard why Itimo was there he was delighted that the Elfling admired his work so much."

"He let Itimo watch while he finished the sword, and he even forged a small dagger for Itimo to carry, because even the finest archers should know how to use blades. Itimo was so happy that he felt absolutely no guilt over having run off... He realized that curiosity can sometimes be a good thing."

"And of course," Elladan concluded, lifting Legolas from Elrohir's arms, "now that Itimo was not _quite_ so obedient he found that he could play with other Elflings, and he had many more friends."

"That's a _terrible_ story to tell him!" Arwen growled. "As if he needed any more encouragement... You could have come up with something more appropriate! Elladan, tell him what happened when Glorfindel and Itimo's _Ada_ found out that he had gone to the smithy in the middle of the night."

"I don't think that's important –"

"Of course it is. The story is incomplete without that. Legolas, when Glorfindel found out that Itimo had been disobedient, he –"

"Forgave him," Elrohir cut in swiftly. "As did Itimo's _Ada_. Because they both understood that sometimes an Elfling needs to satisfy his curiosity, and the only way to do it is by seeing things for himself."

"_Honestly!_" Arwen snatched Legolas and got to her feet. "That was a _most_ improper story to tell a child! Don't listen to them, _tithen pen_. They have absolutely no idea what they're talking about." She paused and turned, still holding Legolas tightly. "And now you two had better go tell the smiths to make certain they leave the smithies locked tonight!"

* * *

"What did you do today, Legolas?" Celebrían asked, smiling across the dinner table at the Elfling seated on a pile of cushions. Although her eyes were on Legolas, she did not miss the fact that her twin sons suddenly seemed to find their cutlery _very_ interesting.

"Arwen told me about Gondolin," Legolas said, earning an approving look for the _elleth_ from both Erestor and Elrond.

"About the House of the Heavenly Arch, remember?" Elladan added. "And you wanted to know why we do not stand on mountaintops and shoot arrows into the sky any longer. I expect Glorfindel knows the answer to that. Why don't you ask him?"

Legolas turned blue eyes on the suddenly alarmed Glorfindel, but before he could ask the question Celebrían said, "Glorfindel will explain that to you later, Legolas. It's his turn to tuck you in tonight in any case." The Balrog-slayer shot her a look of fervent gratitude, but Celebrían's main purpose had not been to give him time to think. With a glance in the direction of Elladan, she went on, "I thought you were going on a picnic with the twins and Arwen. What happened?"

The Elfling smiled happily.

"We _were_ going," he said. "But then Dan and Ro told me an improper story about Glorfindel and Arwen said it would be best if we left them behind."

For a moment there was stunned silence around the table, broken only by Arwen's muffled giggles. Elladan and Elrohir, attempting to beat a hasty retreat, were riveted to their seats by a stern glance from their father.

"An _improper_ story?" Glorfindel gasped, finally finding his voice and glaring at the twins.

"_Glorfindel?_" Erestor said in wonder.

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**Sindarin Translations**

_Elleth_ – Female Elf

_Ellon _(plural _ellyn_) – Male Elf

_Ada_ – Dad/Daddy

_Nana_ – Mum/Mummy

_Muinthel_ – Sister

_Muindor n__î__n_ – My brother

_Tithen pen_ – Little one

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**Update:** Since people have been reviewing/PM-ing to ask this, I thought I'd say it here... Itimo isn't a younger version of any of the canon characters, just somebody Elladan and Elrohir invented for the sake of the story. Sorry if this isn't clear enough in the story itself.

All credit to Saki and his wonderful short story, "The Story-Teller".

Please review and let me know what you thought!


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